


Misplaced in Purpose

by LettersofSky



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Blood, Canon-Typical Violence, Gen, eclipse zine
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-17
Updated: 2020-04-17
Packaged: 2021-03-01 16:34:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,141
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23700169
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LettersofSky/pseuds/LettersofSky
Summary: This piece was originally written for the Eclipse Fanzine.The fact that Sawbuck’s own use lay in his ability to withstand harm and stall enemies was an unfortunate one when combined with his more skittish and non-confronting personality. But it was the best way for him to be of use so he would do his best to do what was needed of him when the time called for it.
Comments: 4
Kudos: 4





	Misplaced in Purpose

**Author's Note:**

> I got the opportunity to write a piece for Sawbuck for the Eclipse Zine and I enjoyed the piece very much!

A strike. An attack against his person and Sawbuck draws into himself, flinching at the harm that he can’t quite feel through the thickness of his skin. He blinks, eyes soft and sorrowful as he looked to the individual that had attempted harm against him this time.

It’s just Fin. Eyes narrowed as he stares at the green fabric of Sawbuck’s suit, parted and frayed from the knife that’d been stuck into his side.

“Would you kindly STOP ruining everyone’s suits, Number Five?”

Sawbuck turned to the voice, not too surprised that Stitch had spoken up more at the damage to his suit than any harm, perceived or otherwise, to Sawbuck himself.

He opened his mouth, preparing himself to speak up around his overbite, but was quickly cut off by Fin.

“Of come off it!” Rolling eyes accompanied a dismissive wave of Fin’s hand as he stepped around Sawbuck’s bulk to better see the crossed arms and narrowed gaze of Stitch on the other side of the room. “It’s not like he felt it anyway if he had then we’d be hours away, Number Nine.”

He was right. They would have been sent hours, days, weeks or even months or years either forwards or backward through time if he’d actually been harmed by the poke! It… wasn’t like Sawbuck actually had much control over anything regarding his particular brand of abilities. There were quite a few of them that didn’t have much control over their specific abilities, but that was fine, they all found their own ways to be useful to The Doctor and the rest of the Felt.

The fact that Sawbuck’s own use lay in his ability to withstand harm and stall enemies was an unfortunate one when combined with his more skittish and non-confronting personality. But it was the best way for him to be of use so he would do his best to do what was needed of him when the time called for it.

Like tonight, where he was supposed to go with some of the others, Trace and Itchy this time, to help them fend off anyone that caught wind of what they were getting up to for The Doctor and decided to try to do something to interrupt and interfere with them. This hopefully wouldn’t happen but Sawbuck knew better than to hope for something like that with the thorn that was The Midnight Crew lurking out in the street like ants under their feet.

Neither Itchy nor Trace had seemed so worried when The Doctor had given them the job though, so he would do his best to follow in their lead.

They were both always so much more sure and confident when it came to completing the tasks given to them by The Doctor, Sawbuck meanwhile was still pretending at feeling the same until he was actually able to. Just as Clover said he should.

Fin and Stitch seemed to have continued their argument even as Sawbuck ignored them for his own thoughts, the two of them noticeably becoming more heated as they started to speak in quicker and shorter sentences.

Sawbuck didn’t really want to bother with separating them or dealing with their antics though so he was simply going to leave the room. No reason to attempt to be sneaky or anything of the like, it wasn’t as if it would work overly well considering his bulk and the size of the doorways in comparison.

They didn’t really notice anyways and he was able to leave the room and their back and forth argument without drawing their attention to the fact that he was, saving him from figuring out how to side with neither of them while they spat words at each other over his head.

It was time to make his way back to the entrance of the mansion, where Trace and Itchy were waiting for him. 

“Sorry for—” He doesn’t get much of a chance to say anything else before Itchy is rushing in and interrupting him in his usual fashion.

“Sorry for keeping us waiting?” Well, you should be because we’ve been waiting over three minutes for you to arrive which is two minutes too long for me when we could have already been on our way and doing what The Doc’s asking us to so that we can come back before everything closes again and—”

“Are you ready?” Trace butts in as Itchy only continued to talk, his words coming faster and faster until they were a slur of sounds and noises that Sawbuck couldn’t quite make sense of. Trace was much easier though, nothing too overly difficult to deal with there.

“Yes!” He flinched at the volume of his own voice as he jumped to answer Trace’s question, knowing just how eager that would make him seem to the other Felt members. “I’m sorry again for—”

“Nothing to be concerned over,” Trace waved him off, adjusting the set of the hat on his own head before he folded the cuff of his suit over his wrist. “We’ve time to spare despite what Itchy would have you think, it’s not like you’re any slower than Doze anyway.” He turned to the door, side-eyeing Itchy who had started to pace alongside his chattering. “Come along now, if you want to get back before daybreak then we should go now.”

Sawbuck swallowed, watching Itchy pause in his motions and talking all together\ at Trace’s words to roll his eyes before following him out of the mansion’s doors. Sawbuck could only wish to have that much pull and confidence when he talked to the others of the Felt, perhaps he’d be lucky and figure it out alongside being confident in himself and his ability to assist in jobs, only time would tell.

He followed the two of them outside of the mansion, to the car that one of the others must have pulled around to the front earlier, climbing carefully into the backseat after the other two made themselves comfortable in the front. He looked between them both, swallowing heavily before leaning back carefully in the seat, focusing on the street passing them.

There’s silence, a lingering, dragging quiet before he’s unable to take it and decides to try to break it.

“Do you think—” “Do we think what? Spit it out!” “He’s trying, you’re being impatient.” “Oh shut up.” “—that we’ll run into the Crew tonight?”

Itchy looks like he’s about to launch into another spiel of words but Trace cuts in before he can start.

“It’s more than possible,” he looked back at Sawbuck through the mirror, raising a brow at his cramped and uncomfortable appearance where he was squished into the back of the car. “They do like to put themselves into our business don’t they?”

“Yeah they do the cockroaches,” Itchy muttered from the front seat, thankfully unable to speed more than he already was because of The Doctor’s warnings hanging over their heads when it came to the fragility of vehicles. “Don’t worry though Sawbuck that’s what you’re here for!” Itchy grinned at him through the mirror, a sharp, quick thing full of manic energy like the rest of him was. “They don’t know how to handle you and even if they did figure something out you’d both just end up in the next week am I right?”

Sawbuck feels himself swell at the vote of confidence from Itchy, the trust that the other was putting into his ability to do what was needed to ensure they could do what The Doctor was expecting them to. Whatever that was. He wasn’t really sure about that considering he was there to be a deterrent and wall to the Midnight Crew and little else.

He was going to be the best deterrent he could possibly be though.

“Exactly!” He agreed, returning Itchy’s smile in the mirror, ignoring Trace’s fond sigh of exaggeration as well as the knowledge that should such a thing come to pass, it would lead to him being stranded in a different point and time with The Midnight Crew. “They won’t be able to do anything to you guys; I’ll make sure of it! I promise!”

“Hell yeah you will we’ll get in and out before we know it and get drinks later won’t we Trace?” Itchy doesn’t even bother to give the illusion that Trace could answer before he’s off and talking again, just slow enough for Sawbuck to still be able to understand everything coming out of his mouth. “I mean aside from the fact that you’re like an actual real-life-stick-in-the-mud of course can’t forget that can we Sawbuck? Number Three doesn’t like fun or engaging with the rest of us other than his little trail buddy Number Five like they’re better than the rest of us even though I’m sure you and I could drink them under the table any night and—”

Sawbuck listened to Itchy as he continued to rant and ramble for the whole duration of the drive to the other side of town, far enough from anything that could be considered Midnight Crew territory, though he was sure that wouldn’t stop them from showing up, it never did after all.

Unfortunately, he was right.

They were expecting Hearts Boxcars and Spades Slick to show up, of course they were, they would have been stupid not to expect at least one, if not more, of the Midnight Crew to appear and ruin their job.

And it fell to Sawbuck to keep them occupied while Trace and Itchy did what they needed to do for The Doctor.

He could do that. He could.

They were both very dangerous individuals though, each deadly in their own rights and Sawbuck was more than aware of that, more than aware of the danger they presented to him and the others. The danger he needed to protect the others from.

He held himself between the two enemies and the doorway leading to where Itchy and Trace were working, his girth blocking the doorway and stalling the two Midnight Crew members. He wouldn’t let them get past him; he wouldn’t let them hurt the other two.

They were counting on him and he wasn’t going to let them down.

But Spades Slick and Hearts Boxcars were both very dangerous individuals and Sawbuck wasn’t much of a threat to them, now when his abilities lay so much more towards stalling and defensive measures instead of offensive, like so many of the others within the Felt. He was going to do his best though, or else he would be classed as unneeded and replaced by The Doctor, a fate they were all avoiding.

The sheer thickness of his skin saved him from feeling much of what the two were doing to him, Slicks’ knife wasn’t able to cut through his skin despite tearing through the fabric of his suit like warm butter and Boxcars’ bullets ricochet off of him completely. They were persistent, unrelenting in their attacks but Sawbuck didn’t feel anything.

Until he did.

Burning pain in his flank and Sawbuck flinches, only getting to start to yell out a warning to the other two before he and Spades Slick disappear from the current point in time to a different one.

There’s no one but he and Slick there whenever they’ve been brought to, nothing to let him know if it’s the past or future or if Itchy and Trace were able to complete their given task.

Slick is raging, he hates anything related to time shenanigans, but Sawbuck is more concerned with clutching his bleeding side, the knife that had pierced him yanked out harshly by Slick once they’d appeared at this point in time.

His hand’s warm.

The wound ragged and bleeding freely.

It hurts.

He needs to get out of there, to make his way back to the Felt manor and hope he can make it in time to avoid bleeding out. Or that Stitch notices the tear in his mannequin in time to fix it.

But first, he needs to deal with Slick.

The Leader of the Midnight Crew hadn’t been too concerned about Sawbuck’s shotgun before, not with Boxcars at his side and the others of his Crew no doubt ready to come to aid should they be needed, but now on his own, misplaced from time, it was a different matter altogether.

Sawbuck raised his weapon, spreading the blood from his side against the gunmetal as he aimed it at Slick, forcing himself to focus past the agony of the movement.

It was time to decide exactly how this was going to play out.

Sawbuck needed to find out if he’d brought Itchy and Trace enough time to do what they needed and get out unharmed.

He needed to know if he’d failed them or not.

He needed to...


End file.
